|Museo Picasso, Málaga|
There's been much animated discussion following the theft on August 21 of a Van Gogh painting from Cairo's Mahmoud Khalil Museum (see Security problems abound in Egypt's Museum on MSNBC.com for a summary).
Understandably, the Khalil Museum's inoperative surveillance and alarm systems have come under fierce scrutiny, as have the museum's security guards. Associated Press reporter Hadeel Al-Shalchi offered a first-hand account of guards visibly slumbering on the job or engrossed in reading the Quran instead of keeping an eye on the objects in their care.
I recently wrote to Zahi Hawass, Egypt's antiquities tsar, requesting a face to face interview. I wanted to ask him a host of questions about cultural heritage restitution, museum commerce, museum security, and the rest. I pitched the idea to The Art Newspaper, but having recently run an item on Hawass, they wanted a stronger news hook. At that moment, a week before the theft, there wasn't one. There is now.
In the wake of the theft, Hawass told reporters he was satisfied with his museums' security ("I am assuring everyone that all of my 23 museums are well-protected and have good security systems," Hawass told reporters.) That is manifest rubbish, as the van Gogh theft makes clear. Hawass, a bellicose figure in the cultural heritage repatriation debate, may have been attempting to see off the inevitable accusations that Egyptian museums can't look after their own treasures. But let's not get too high and mighty. Last week the British Museum was evacuated after an unidentified toxic emission scare. We're just better at spinning the media.
Ton Cremers, one of the world's leading authorities on museum security and art theft, rightly pointed to the yawning gap between the cost of an up-to-date museum security system and the market value of the sort of art being targeted by thieves. Ton's right, it's a no-brainer, but does anyone heed that logic? It's easier to find a scapegoat. According to The National, the Egyptian courts are now chock-full of rueful museum officials and culture ministers awaiting punishment for their part in the incident (11 facing trial for negligence after thieves steal van Gogh painting).
To those of us who monitor art crime closely and professionally, this judicial outcome is a queasy thing to witness. Few European or North American art thefts have ever led to the prosecution of museum directors or ministers of culture, despite the fact that ultimately they are probably to blame. Were any officials in Paris fired after it was found that the alarms weren't operative during the recent theft from the Musée d'Art Moderne? No. (Or not yet.) If a corporate building were broken into and and its valuable assets stolen, heads would doubtless roll. But generally speaking, with museum thefts we merely shrug and put it down to constrained resources, an occupational hazard. In many cases, however, it's due to lamentably poor management. Perhaps it takes a legal precedent like the one unfolding in Egypt to encourager les autres.
Last week, I visited the Museo Picasso in Málaga in southern Spain. At first I thought I'd inadvertently wandered into Málaga airport when a security guard insisted that I surrender my bag, which was put through an airport-style electronic scanner and then confiscated for the duration of my visit. (A shame, as I'm rather attached to that box-cutter).
Security could not have been tighter, which is perhaps not surprising given that Picasso is the prime target for high-end art theft. But although it took longer to get into the Picasso Museum, the process was neither onerous nor intrusive. Once inside, I noted that all the rooms were patrolled by young, alert-looking security guards in chic, tailored suits. They may have been toreadors working part-time for extra cash, so even if you got the painting off the wall, you'd need to be pretty bullish to get past them.
It goes without saying that guarding a museum is not as exciting as bull-fighting, but there is no question that the young Spaniards looking after Picasso's bequest take it seriously. And they were smiling and courteous too.